


Second Guessing

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Series: Closer [2]
Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Underage Sex, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I want to flop down, or scream, or punch something. We were maybe, almost having a moment. I hate mushy feely moments. But we were having one and it was possibly going to work out but flarking no.</p><p>---</p><p>Or that one AU where Spider-Man is terrible at picking out ideal sexy times locations and Nova is annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Guessing

**Author's Note:**

> Peter and Sam are both sixteen. So don't read if that is upsetting to you. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS there is discussion of previous sexual abuse of a character that was a minor at the time.

Now that he's joined SHIELD, Spider-Man takes off his mask around the team. It’s been a week and it's still weird seeing Peter Parker walking, and crawling, around in the Spider-Man suit.

 

I follow Spidey out of debrief. The _das’t_ idiot nearly killed himself tonight. Frying himself to get the gross... **thing** off of him.

 

/unknown enemy organism categorized 'symbiote' designated 'venom' by shield superior officer agent parker/

 

We didn’t tell Fury about it, like the _flarking_ Webhead had asked. I don't know how he expects to **keep** it a secret from a bunch of spies. He didn't bother to share that with us lowly trainees.

 

Right now his vitals are… ok-ish. I know he’ll put up a fight if I bring it up though. He has some kind of healing factor, I think he'll probably be back at 100% tomorrow morning.

 

/assuming optimum rest cycles and energy consumption agent parker should be operating at 86% efficiency when we see him tomorrow morning/

 

_I didn't ask._

 

/rude/

 

The idiot still needs to make it home in order to heal up. And I’m not sure he wouldn’t somehow find all the trouble in New York on his way back to Queens.

 

/possibility of delay due to 'off the clock' execution of duties 99.97%/

 

“I’m not in the mood, Buckethead,” he grumps at me. I roll my eyes. Like I’m in the mood after that freaky symbiote thing earlier? Ugh, I can still feel it in my armpits. Gross.

 

/the symbiote's unauthorized access of nova force was successfully 'power capped' at 12%/

 

“Rude,” I snap back. Douche.

 

Though now we’ve both learned that not only are we students at the same school, we’re also superheros fighting together. And, oh yeah, Spider-Man is my sort of boss on that front too?

 

/agent parker is agent alexander's superior officer * nova alexander is currently the highest ranking nova in this quadrant/

 

Anyways, MJ is **still** trying to convince me to ask him out. Peter, not Spider-Man. She’s kind of crushing on Spider-Man, just a bit.

 

There’s no way I’m telling her about how I messed this one up. I can just see how that would go, ‘Oh hey MJ. You know how you keep trying to convince me Parker likes dudes and I totally have a chance? Funny story, I kinda ran into him at a bus stop and we blew each other in some nasty alley downtown. So, yeah, good call on that.’ Uh, no. No way. She’d either demand all the deets, which kind of involve minor abuses of my super powers.

 

/you organics are so gross/

 

Which are supposed to be on the dee el, so most def **not**. Or demand we actually, ugh, talk about our **feelings** together and go on a proper date at least once.

 

He glares at me and walks faster. Like that's gonna stop me. I'm literally **floating** right now.

 

This time of night the helicarrier is nearly deserted. Technically we're all supposed to be in bed now. There 's a curfew for us 'junior' superheroes. Flarking lame, but whatever.

 

He flips to the ceiling and stomps loudly. Weirdo. I float upside down next to him. He's really tense.

 

We get to the middle of a corridor and he spins to face me. He still hasn't put his mask back on and he looks pissed.

 

"What the flip do you want, Nova?"

 

"Uh, nothing?"

 

He scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

 

"Seriously, Webs, can't a guy hang out with his fearless leader just because he wants to? Why's there gotta be a reason?"

 

He looks at me like he's trying to figure out where the lie is. Then he looks away and mutters something to himself.

 

"Uh, come again?"

 

/audio enhancement results 'no he's not shut up'/

 

He looks back at me and licks his lips. It's just a little distracting. Then he's smirking and it is **very** distracting.

 

“You first," he says with a little hip wiggle. And I might have been just a bit too busy thinking about what he was doing last week with those lips to catch on in time to, well, probably not run away. But at least not be caught like a dumbass.

 

His lips are on mine and he's pinning me to the ceiling. His knees are at my hips and his ankles are over my knees. It's actually a really effective pin and I think I might be just flexible enough to pull it off. We'll have to practise it. Later.

 

His kiss is rough and sloppy. I'm not in the mood for this. I'd really rather shower and get blackout drunk. Though no drinking for 'junior' superheroes either. Which is probably a good thing, what with...

 

He knocks off my helmet before I can shove him away. And he must be using his spider stickiness somehow to hold me up. Hold my hips and legs up anyways. I brace my arm against his chest. His muscles are crazy firm. Then he's moving his kisses to that spot just behind my ear and  "Ah, fuck," I'm hard and ready.

 

Except I don't think he keeps lube in his utility belt and there was no way I could concentrate through those kisses to keep my uniform materialized.

 

I hear my helmet land on the floor. It's loud enough I wonder if we shouldn't scram. But then he's ripping open my pants and running his fingers along my shaft through my boxers. His gloves have a weird, ridged texture, "Not my kink, Webs."

 

"You coulda fooled me, Buckethead," he smirks then, his blue eyes are on my face as he reaches in my boxers and starts stroking my dick. I make some sort of embarrassing sound and he laughs. Quiet and wicked. My cock twitches and I shiver.

 

I wiggle my hips, but the ridged spandex still feels weird.

 

"Seriously, Pete, no gloves."

 

His strokes slow down. He looks likes he's thinking about something as he watches me try to squirm away. Not that I have a chance without my helmet.

 

I'm about to say something much less nice when he's bending down and "Shit," he is "Gods damn," flexible. I grab onto his shoulders, and I know I’m making some damn stupid noises. But “Holy fuck,” his mouth is hot and wet and he doesn’t even fucking hesitate.

 

"W-webs!" my cock is down his throat and I still can't believe how much he can take. The humans, and ok, humanoids I've been with usually don't even try to take it all. But "Fuck," he takes it down like a porn star. And he still uses his tongue. And he hums some ridiculous tune, "Gods," that feels "So good."

 

I'm groaning and trying to thrust but "Dammit!" he still has me pinned. "Jesus Christ," I can't believe he can bend like that. But he is. Fucking bendy ass spider.

 

He's not even trying to be quiet, either. He's making totally obscene slurping sounds and impossibly cheerful noises. Noises that feel "So good," with his mouth around my cock.

 

"Fuck," I'm close. He makes eye contact, his eyes are grey right now, not blue. And I can see he knows I'm trying to hold back. Even with his hot mouth full of my cock he's smug and gloating.

 

"Webs," I groan. That fucking ass. He's going to be unbearable after this. I grab his hair with both hands and relax. Letting gravity pull my upper body down. I can't make eye contact like this, but spider powers or no it can't feel good to have me hanging from his head.

 

Except he makes this confused-excited sound and wiggles his hips so, ok. I was wrong about that. But the sound he makes is too much, "Webs, I'm gonna-"

 

He makes another happy little sound and takes me all the way down his throat. I think if he drops me I'm kicking his ass and then that pressure finally gives and I'm sure I'm saying something stupid and possibly almost sappy as I lose it.

 

"Gods damn you can take it! Fuck yes! Drink it up you dirty spider," ah ok, not sappy. At least my mouth still listens to me. But honestly with the way he sucks dick I think I'd be ok with sappy.

 

I come so hard I see stars. Everything is warm and nice and upside down. I must've let go of Pete's hair at some point because my arms are loose and noodley and I'm getting kind of dizzy.

 

"Jesus Christ, Webs. You're fucking amazing!" I manage to get out. My knees are jelly and I know if I still had my helmet on I'd be floating.

 

I still can't believe he takes it all. No gagging, no 'ew gross' faces. I know I make a face nearly every time. It tastes fucking terrible, no matter the species. Nothing like pussy.

 

Then he's leaning up, smirking at me. He shifts his legs and I barely register I'm falling before he's caught me and swings us into a nearby supply closet.

 

"Helmet," I remind him before the door closes. He webs it to us and tosses it on the very top shelf. I growl. He laughs.

 

"Webheaded ass," I mutter. He sets me on my feet, "Dammit," my knees are still not listening. I grab onto him. And it's harder than it really should be with his stupid spandex and me still clumsy from his ridiculously spectacular blow job.

 

He giggles. Fucking **giggles** at me as I sort of slide down his body.

 

"Fuck you," I grunt, then bite his thigh. He squeaks and wiggles his hips. He's hard already so I mouth his cock through his suit. His wiggling turns to thrusts and I, gently, nip at his shaft. He makes a way too fucking cute sound for a guy as ripped as he is. Seriously. That shit should be illegal.

 

Then he's grabbing my hair and pulling out his cock. I open my mouth and he's shoving his dick down my throat before I can sass him for being too fucking cute. Fuck, I **do** have a gag reflex and I might, maybe, panic just a bit as he holds my head still, but he stops just short of hitting it.

 

His other hand runs through my hair. It's soothing, and almost like he's trying to say he's sorry without words. Weird. He pulls my head back and I flex my tongue into a clover as he fucks my mouth. He makes another one of those too fucking cute noises and shudders.

 

"Sam," he groans. And fuck me if hearing him say my name isn't a million times better than it has any right to be. I moan and tease his foreskin with my tongue.

 

" **Sam** ," the way he says my name this time gets my blood flowing and I squirm around, wiggling my hips to get more comfortable against the metal floor of the supply closet.

 

Pete growls. Fucking growls. And holy shit he's flipping me over, face down, ass in the air. Like I'm not hundred and fifty pounds. Like I'm a fucking, fuck I don't know feather or something. Shit. Then he's ripping my pants and boxers clean off. Like in fucking pieces on the floor ripped off, not metaphorically ripped off. I'm hard again just like that.

 

“Is this OK? You’re so sexy I just kinda…”

 

I know I let out some kind of needy sound in frustration before saying, “Fuck yes! Give it to me Webs!” then he's spreading me open, squirting lube inside me. He does keep lube in his utility belt, good to know. And it’s not cold. Nice.

 

I’m moaning as he slides a naked finger in, slow and surprisingly gentle for how fast he just moved. He rests his finger, giving me time to adjust, but I can definitely take more. I wiggle and push back against him.

 

His other hand grabs my hips and he growls again. He rubs his knuckles against my entrance and it feels nice, but it isn’t what I want now. I whine. Completely pathetic I know, but he’s holding my hips still and I’m not, yet, desperate enough to actually beg.

 

He slides another finger in, slowly. Too slowly. Damnit, I try to push back, to move, but he’s still holding my hips in place. He’s fucking strong. I mean, yeah, duh, spider strength. He picks up semi trucks and stops trains. But it’s one thing seeing him do in the heat of battle. Let me tell you it is something else entirely to feel it like this.

 

“Webs,” I groan, “Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me, damnit.”

 

He curls his fingers gently inside me, searching for my prostate. Too fucking slow and still teasing. Almost like he… “Fuck, yes!” I gasp. Warm-nice-yes-good feelings wash over me as he presses his fingers down against that little spot and starts working it.

 

The lube is slippery and thick. Good stuff. He starts scissoring his fingers as he uncurls them, still moving too damn slow and now I **am** begging, “Webs, please, come on, fuck me, please, Pete, I’m ready, fuckin’ do it,” but he isn’t hurrying. He’s still taking his gods damn time. He pushes a third finger inside me and stretches me further, and then, finally! He takes his hand off my hip and I can hear him slicking up his cock.

 

I wiggle back against his hand and then he's spreading me open. He's pushing his dick inside me and I'm moaning like a fucking slut because begging for him to just hurry the fuck up wasn't working. Made him go slower, the _flarking_ asshole.

 

"Sam," he gasps and it goes straight to my dick. I shove back, taking him deep. He makes a sexy noise of surprise and grabs my hips with both hands. I try to rock forward but, nope. Not happening.

 

"God damn, Sam, you feel **so** good," his voice is soft and rough and just a bit awed. My heart races, he sounds like... _No. It's just been a while for him, too._

 

Then he's slowly pulling back, and pushing so gentle-slow back in. And I'm sure. He isn't teasing me. Not, fuck me, not on purpose. He's not moving like it's been **a while**. He's moving like it's been **never**.

 

Fuck.

 

Fuck, fuck, **fuck**.

 

Gods dammit.

 

He makes another sexy-cute noise and I realize I'm tensing up. I take a deep breath and focus on relaxing.

 

He moves his hands off my hips. Runs his fingers up my spine and ends up resting his hands on my shoulders. I hear myself sigh as he starts kneading. He's still fucking me so gentle-slow, too.

 

Man, that feels **nice**.

 

I moan again and stop rushing. Letting him set the pace, "This is **good** ," really good. He's making tiny little gasps and growls and I know I want to see his face before we're done.

 

"Yeah, this **is** good."

 

There's no rush though. Not now. This is the kind of fucking that could take all night.

 

He runs his fingers through my hair and I hear myself making stupid little noises in response. That, "Feels really nice."

 

He chuckles and does it again. Still fucking me with that slow-easy pace he's set.

 

"I gathered as much from the happy little purrs, grumpy cat."

 

"Grumpy cat?! I'm not a- Ah!" fuck, he bit me! "Nnnnh!" right on **that** fucking spot on the back of my neck. He's kissing and nipping and licking and I'm gasping and whining and moaning, "Fuck! Webs!"

 

He's laughing again and if I didn't like the way it makes his cock move inside me I'd be pissed. I'll be pissed later. Right now I'm too busy enjoying this.

 

I was so sure earlier that he's never topped before, maybe even never...

 

Am I right? Or...

 

This... really shouldn't be happening in a gods damn supply closet.

 

"Pete?"

 

"Yeah, Sam?" his breath tickles my ear.

 

The door opens.

 

**Shit.**

 

Danny and Ava stumble in. Hands all over each other, giggling.

 

Peter squeaks in surprise and tries to hide his face against my neck. _Das’t_ idiot.

 

“Get your own flarking supply closet!”

 

They trip over each other trying to drop into their ready stances and fall on their asses. I laugh. I can feel Webs looking up, then turning back against my neck. He’s smirking against my skin, body shaking with quiet laughter.

 

Danny is blushing, and... glowing? He isn’t using his Iron Fist though, he has some kind of glowy dragon on his chest. Easy to see past his tank top. Ava is gawking at us like she doesn’t read the trashiest romance novels in existence.

 

I straighten up. Well, I push up to a more svanasana than astang pranam. And now Ava’s blushing and scrambling to her feet.

 

“Wow, um, sorry guys, we, uh, thought you were heading back to Queens,” Ava blurts. Danny stands up and bows.

 

“Our apologies. We did not mean to disturb your union,” he pushes Ava back through the door and they’re gone. Dammit.

 

I want to flop down, or scream, or punch something. We were maybe, almost having a moment. I **hate** mushy feely moments. But we were having one and it was possibly going to work out but _flarking_ no. Danny and Ava had to pick **this** supply closet of all the _das’t_ places on the helicarrier to bang or whatever in.

 

Ugh. Fuck my life.

 

I turn into Pete and kiss his hair. I don’t growl, even though I really, really want to. He looks up, eyes grey and bright and scared and excited and fuck me I’m lost.

 

“Webs, chillax. We’re good,” I try to comfort him. I’m so _flarking_ terrible at this shit. But then he’s kissing me and I do my best to tone it down and kiss him softly. He’s not moving, though, and I really want to fix that. I squirm around to face him fully.

 

He pulls away from the kiss and rubs noses with me. Jesus Christ is he always this fucking sappy? I lick him back. He giggle-snorts and pulls away, hands on my hips now.

 

He's still kneeling. I pull up on his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist. He gasps and shudders as I grind down.

 

"Fuck!"

 

Hearing him actually cuss should not feel this good.

 

"Sam!"

 

He makes soft, gaspy noises as I fuck his cock. The angle is not, quite, right, just yet. But, seeing his face is even better than I'd thought it'd be. He's got that stupid look of 'holy shit I can't believe this is real' bliss. And riding him like this it's almost painfully obvious he's never topped before.

 

That's ok though, I know what I like and what I want and how to get it. It isn't until his grey-blue eyes focus on me and he grins that I realize I'm grinning like an idiot, too. His top got pushed up at some point and my dick is rubbing against his stomach with my motions. 

 

His hands slide from my hips to squeeze my ass and I moan for him. Then his thumbs are rubbing little circles in that spot at the base of my spine and I'm making stupid-happy sounds. That feels really nice. He nuzzles against my neck and kisses me softly.

 

What a fucking sap. I nip his ear. He gasps and wiggles. Then I'm wailing like an idiot because that wiggling did **things**. Really **nice** things to my happy-fun spot and he should do that again, for sure.

 

"Shit."

 

But he is **not** doing that again. He is doing the **opposite** of that. He freezes and holds me still. Stupid fucking spider strength. I let out a whine and-

 

"Sorry, sorry! Sam, shit, are you ok? Did I hurt you? Should we stop?"

 

“What? Fuck no! I’m fine! Shit!”

 

“It’s ok! We can-”

 

“That was ‘yes-more’ not ‘no-stop’ Webs!”

 

But he’s not listening and already thwipping my helmet down from the shelf. Fucking idiot, can’t he tell the _das’t_ difference between- _Shit!_

 

/nova-032120130825 it has*/

 

_Naked! Naked! Naked! No uniform!_

 

/and a fine how do you do to you too/

 

_Shut up!_

 

Then Webs is making strangled gasps and burying his face against my neck.

 

/organics are so gross/

 

His legs give out as he comes. I hang on and hold us up with the Nova Force.

 

His hot jizz is filling me up and I really, really, really want to talk so fucking dirty to him. But he’s **still** trying to fucking apologize. So instead I hold him close and put soft kisses all over his face and talk him through it, “Yeah, Webs, that's it, fill me up. This is **good** , yeah, it feels so good, Pete, fuck yes! Yes, that’s it, come on, like that, yeah?”  

 

Then he’s curling into me. Hiding his face against my neck again. Shaking and making the most pathetic noises I've ever heard him make. And that includes the awful sounds he made frying himself tonight.

 

The Nova Force dematerializing my clothes must have pushed him over. _Flarking_ idiot.

 

/i need an adult/

 

_You're not helping._

 

I push the Nova Force out and around him. Wrapping him up in it even as I hold him close, "It's ok, Webs, I'm ok. You didn't hurt me. I'm fine, I had fun, it was really hot, I'm ok. I'm too fucking loud, l know. Sorry I freaked you out-"

 

"You're really ok?" he looks guiltily up at me.

His voice is all weak and pathetic and that creeping feeling I've been ignoring solidifies.

 

/agent parker's cortisol levels are extremely elevated * his response to perceived injury of his partner is consistent with unresolved trauma/

 

"I'm really ok," I put my hands on his cheeks and make eye contact. Gods, I'm fucking the worst at this shit. This wasn't supposed to get our feelings involved.

 

"/nova alexander's vital signs are within optimum parameters for a human of his age and size/"

 

???

 

/.../

 

"There, see! I'm totally fine!" that was weird. _Why'd you say something?_

 

/humans do not think artificial intelligences are capable of lying/

 

He **does** look relieved now. And embarrassed. He's just too fucking cute.

 

/agent parker's observed behavior indicates post traumatic stress disorder likely/

 

_What superhero **doesn't** have PTSD?_

 

/insufficient data/

 

He's blushing now and looking down. Then he sees my hard cock and is blushing even more. I wiggle my hips and he makes a surprised little giggle. What a fucking dork.

 

"I am totally fine," I give him my least serious leer, "but there iiiiis something you could do to make me feel eeeeven bet-ter," I stretch my arms up and arch my back, rubbing my cock against his ridiculous abs. His happy trail tickles and I grin.

 

He's grinning back. Still all blushy and cute, "You're hella cute, Webs."

 

He makes another illegally cute noise as his blush goes down his neck. I feel myself smirking. I'm glad he's not wearing his stupid mask, it hides too much of his face.

 

/is that not the general idea/

 

I wonder if I should risk teasing him at school.

 

/likelihood of ms watson noticing is 91.20%/

 

"But seriously though, I'm good," I slump back down and cuddle up with him, "We're good. We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

 

He runs his hand through my hair and I sigh. His dick is softening inside me. I'm warm and deliciously **full** and could totally fall asleep right now.

 

/please don't/

 

He doesn't make any move to pull out. Just holds me close and plays with my hair. I hear him try and say something a few times. I'm only half hard now, but I meant what I told him. I'll survive.

 

I stretch against him. Then pull him into a slow, lazy kiss. Holding him with the Nova Force is easier than it's ever been.

 

His moans give me shivers and my cock jumps. Gods he's so amazing. How could anyone...

 

"Whose ass do I need to kick?" I've never been good at keeping quiet. He looks up at me, lips freshly kissed, hair all 'just been fucked', blue eyes sleepy and confused. They're bluer than usual through the Nova Force and I wonder if that's what my eyes look like under the helmet.

 

"Wh-what? Uh, no one's? Why are we kicking ass now?"

 

"I don't like you getting hurt," I try again. Fuck me why am I so **bad** at this?

 

"Uh, the symbiote is gone. SHIELD couldn't find any traces of it," he frowns at me and tilts his head. Adorable. But not what I meant. How can I say this? Ugh.

 

/don't/

 

"I don't mean tonight, Webs," I say. _Whoever hurt him needs to pay._

 

/vengeance isn't justice/

 

He looks away. Quiet. Too quiet. Damn.

 

/pushing agent parker on this could drive him away * we have other resources at our disposal to track down unpunished criminals/

 

_You could have said something sooner._

 

"I... don't really wanna talk about it. Besides it was a long time ago, it's over now," he says. Still looking away and, and what... Jesus Christ he's **sixteen**. _I'll kill them._

 

/criminals must be remitted to the planetary government of the planet on which the crime was committed per nova statute*/

 

_Then I'll give them to Fury._

 

/acceptable/

 

I grunt and curl up into him. Letting him drop it.

 

"You're... not mad at me?"

 

"The _flark_ would I be mad at you about? No! I ain't mad at you Webs!" I might be a little growly 'cause he flinches away. Shit. I press my hands to his chest and focus on the Nova Force, " 'm really shitty at... emotions, Webs, I'm sorry. H-here, hey, relax and try to feel the glowy stuff holding you up ok?"

 

He raises his eyebrow and looks at me like I might be crazy. Rude. But he listens. His eyes lose focus as he concentrates. He looks so serious. It’s fucking adorable.

 

I focus on warming him up, nice and cozy. But not like, heat warming up. More like… ugh, this is fucking sappy. Like the soul warming kind of warming up.

 

I think about how cute he is. How he makes me laugh with his stupid puns. I think about how nice watching him swing through the city is, about how much fun snarking with him is. Then his eyes are closing and he’s smiling this little half smile and I think about how that makes me feel right now. About how much I really like him. How gods damn amazing his blowjobs are. How fucking great it felt getting fucked by him. What a fucking sappy nerd he is.

 

He kind of chuckles at the feel of my more dirty thoughts. But then he’s pulling me into a kiss, slow and sweet and nice.

 

“Thanks, Buckethead,” he says, voice soft and kind and my heart skips.

 

“Anytime, Webhead.”

 

Then he’s finally pulling out. Using the Nova Force to hold him up gets way more difficult, and I can tell the warm fuzzies aren’t reaching him anymore, either. Ah well. He makes a face at the squelchy sounds of his dick leaving me and I roll my eyes, “You’re such a fucking dork.”

 

He’s making another face at the mess and getting his suit back together with some supposed to be inaudible mutters. _Suit. Now._

 

/would it kill you to say please/

 

_Yes. It’s my only weakness. Being polite._

 

/ass/

 

I give a little shake after the suit materializes. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the _flarking_ plumbing hookups. Ugh, “Race you back to Queens, Bugbreath?”

 

“You’re on, Sunshine!”

 

_**-fin-** _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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